


Ghostwriter

by powerdragonmoon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Just bros being bros, Marcthanael, Math, Nathaniel Kurtzberg/Marc Anciel, Other, buds being buds, dudes being dudes, i love math
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:23:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15412845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/powerdragonmoon/pseuds/powerdragonmoon
Summary: Nathanael is all by himself in the art room, but that's okay. He has work to do before his favourite collaborator arrives.





	Ghostwriter

**Author's Note:**

> Slight spoilers for new ML episode.

The art room was uncharacteristically empty that late into the afternoon, but Nathanael didn’t mind. He was completely caught up in his drawing, his eyes only quickly glancing at the vacant seat beside him before continuing on with his work.  Words he had read over and over replayed in his head, each syllable a burst of inspiration as his pencil scratched along the pages of his sketchbook. 

And when a paper airplane flew across his desk, bumping against him, he barely flinched, having grown somewhat accustomed to the gesture. Although try as he might he didn’t quite manage to smother the small little shriek from leaving his mouth. 

“Sorry,” came a voice from the classroom door, one that was definitely not sorry at all and muffled in cheerful laughter. 

Nathanael giggled in response, crumpling up a scrap piece of paper and tossing it in Marc’s direction. 

“Hey!” Marc shouted, still laughing brightly as he easily dodged Nathanael’s attack, picking up the crushed up ball of paper. 

“Hello,” Nathanael smirked, turning back to his sketch. Marc took up the seat beside him, paper still in hand. 

“Is that how you welcome your amazingly talented collaborator?” Marc smiled, unfolding the paper Nathanael had thrown his way before letting out a gasp, “NATE!”

Nathanael glanced up, slightly confused at Marc’s pained expression. 

“W-what? What’s wrong?”

Marc flailed wildly for a moment before treating the paper in their hands with great care, using the edge of the table to straighten it out as best as possible. 

“YOU CAN’T JUST THROW ART AT ME!” the writer whisper-yelled before opening up their notebook and placing the tossed sketch in between its pages. 

Nathanael followed the action, catching a quick glance of a few other scraps of paper sticking out of Marc’s notebook —s ome of which he recognized as rough sketches of his old drafts. He had always assumed the loose papers in Marc’s notebook were just random notes for their story. Now he wondered if any more of his discarded sketches had been saved from the recycling bin.

Without really thinking, Nathanael reached out a hand, holding Marc’s own down to keep the notebook open. He looked down at his old sketch, a rough outline of some of the ideas they had talked about last week. The layout hadn’t come out the way Nathanael had pictured. And its flaws stood out like a sore thumb, further enhance by his rushed scribbles and crumpled paper despite Marc’s best effort to straighten it out. Nathanael shook his head before tucking his hair behind his ear. It didn’t help much; his hair just fell back into place almost immediately in front of his face as he turned to look at Marc. 

“Why would you keeps these?” he asked.

Marc replied so quickly, just about cutting Nathanael off before he even finished asking his question, “Why would you throw them away?” 

“Uh….” Nathanael laughed nervously, “Because they’re just old drafts, they’re awful.” 

Marc frowned, glancing down at the sketch before pausing on their hands, still in contact. They blushed and Nathanael immediately drew his hand back. 

“Sorry,” he smiled, just now noticing how warm the art room was. It must have been the afternoon sun. 

“It’s fine,” Marc said, which for some reason caused Nathanael to giggle. He laughed awkwardly, feeling the blush on his cheeks as he stared into Marc’s bright green eyes, suddenly forgetting what they were talking about.  

Looking away, Nathanael cleared his throat. 

“I don’t think they’re awful,” Marc spoke, softly cutting the awkward silence between them.  

Nathanael looked back up, mouth slightly open, yet still at a loss for words — words were always Marc’s specialty. Instead Nathanael focused on the person in front of him and every bright colour and feature: deep dark hair that shone metallic in the sunlight, the bright red of their hoodie, followed by the kaleidoscopic pattern on their shirt, and of course green, brilliant green. 

“I think they’re beautiful,” Marc continued, not helping the red staining Nathanael’s cheeks. “Your art is so lively and wonderful. All of it is worth saving!” 

“B-but!” 

“I mean it Nathanael.” And this time is was Marc’s hand reaching for Nathanael’s, a reassuring touch that sent him stammering. 

“Y-yeah, but, that’s… it’s just a rough draft.” 

The gloved hand atop his squeezed softly. 

“Sorry, it’s weird. I just thought they were worth saving... Your art is just so inspiring. Each stroke has a different feeling, some are soft and touching while others are full of strength and power. But even then I can still recognize your style, it’s like a footprint across all your work. Its just so dynamic and, and…. I don’t even know how to describe it! And the way you draw expressions is just so amazing!” 

All Nathanael could think was how he wanted to capture Marc's expression right now, so full and cheerful and kind. So sincere. 

And now Nathanael was really blushing, tips-of-his-ears-on-fire kind of blushing, and with his mind and mouth coming up blank once again, he opted to just turn his hand in Marc’s and return the gesture, squeezing back ever so gently in their own odd handshake. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> new ep = new ship 
> 
> SOMEONE HELP ME I HAVE SO MANY SHIPS AND YET IM SOMEHOW DROWNING
> 
> I wrote this quick and fast lmao i've had a busy summer with work and no time to write, BUT IM MAKING TIME DAMNIT, EVEN IF IT COME WITH TYPOS >:O!


End file.
